


The Journey

by f_fandom



Series: Growing the Family [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Worship, Bottom James T. Kirk, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description, James T. Kirk Has Issues, Lots of it, M/M, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Mpreg, Oral Sex, POV James T. Kirk, POV Spock (Star Trek), Pon Farr, Possessive Spock (Star Trek), Pregnancy Kink, Pregnancy Scares, Pregnant James T. Kirk, Pregnant Sex, Protective Spock (Star Trek), T'hy'la, Top Spock, lots of kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_fandom/pseuds/f_fandom
Summary: a Spock POV on Jim late in pregnancy and thinking how it all came to be. And naturally, body worship and sex ensues.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Growing the Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191254
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	The Journey

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically the piece that let me explore how I wanted to envision this aspect of their relationship. Huge shoutout to an amazing piece called "My Golden Sun / Kin-Kur Las’hark T’nash-Veh" by giddytf2 that explores this beautifully as #OmegaJim.
> 
> This will be a collection of events throughout Jim's pregnancy, including the eventual birth itself.

Spock stood at the doorway of his shared quarters with Jim, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He observed his heavily pregnant mate across the room at work at his console. Spock knew Jim was aware he was there. The constant low hum of peace and contentment and safety between them in their minds anchored them to each other.

Jim ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in the chair, staring at the view screen on his desk like he could will its reports into completion. The pile of padds on the desk was split into two stacks, showing how many he’d already finished. Spock had already finished over half, and he was tempted to remove this last stack from Jim at once. But he knew Jim would disapprove and argue that he was capable of doing it.

Still, he looked tired. He rubbed under his eyes, but Spock could see the dark circles he couldn’t remove. And he had difficulty keeping food down without Dr. McCoy’s hyposprays for nausea. With Jim, food issues added to his stress insurmountably, as it understandably would. Spock’s heart clenched whenever he thought of Tarsus. He observed the sharpness of his husband’s already prominent face. Jim sighed and ran his hand over the large swell of his belly. Spock had noticed an increase of 73% in this action since last month, and Jim still had another three months left in his pregnancy. When he was sitting down with his back straight, his abdomen had swollen so large that the apex and bottom jutted out halfway near his knees and the top squeezed up to a near complete right angle against his chest. He couldn’t sit close enough to his desk console anymore without his stomach getting in the way. Jim pressed the palm of his hand hard into the side of his belly. He grimaced and shifted in his chair, pressing the spot again and rubbing. Then he took a deep breath and leaned back, muttering something as he looked over the screen one final time. When he leaned back, the tight curve of his belly eased out from his body slightly, falling heavy on his hips and legs.

Jim. His husband, his mate and t’hy'la, pregnant and carrying his child. Spock could still not believe this was his life, that such joy should be given to him when he did not deserve it. That of all the chances in this universe of him having a man he’d come to treasure beyond life itself—the odds were less than a single digit, and yet greater than the odds that he would survive if he ever lost this gift.

He knew the trust Jim placed in him, the private and vulnerable sides that craved comfort and reassurance. Jim’s lifetime of abandonment had resulted in a hidden desire for protection and submission. “If you have a kink for tying me up,” he’d once joked to Spock, “just know that I have an even bigger kink for being tied up...But only by you,” he’d quickly added while blushing and then losing all color entirely. Traumatic experiences of his past had forced him to make a clarification Spock hadn’t even considered, but grew murderous at contemplating. Jim’s past experiences of forced sex and domination were always a shadow Spock took care to protect, even if he trembled in rage through every moment of it. His Jim longed to be claimed and taken by Spock. For Spock to replace the hurt and abuse. He _reveled_ in Spock’s strength and primal affections. He sought after it continuously and was easily pleasured. When Spock growled during sex and bit the juncture of the neck Jim always offered, the waves of joy and anticipation from Jim made him tremble. And when nightmares woke him, Spock was there to wipe the tears no one but he and Doctor McCoy ever witnessed. His instinctual drive to protect Jim at all costs anchored his mind.

And when he’d learned how long Jim had loved him from afar, never saying anything for risk of hurting their friendship or interfering with his happiness with Uhura, never knowing that they had mutually ended their relationship less than a month after Jim had been murdered by Kahn and revived...he’d taken Jim in his arms and kissed him so furiously he feared he’d frightened him. He was both surprised and unable to control his lust when Jim bit him back, let Spock into his mouth and immediately began tearing at their uniforms, letting Spock maneuver him and take the lead until he was naked underneath Spock on the bed, watching with wide glacier eyes as Spock peeled off his own uniform and lowered himself between Jim’s spread legs, those strong golden thighs, assaulting his chest with his mouth while Jim arched his glorious back from the bed and clutched at Spock’s shoulders and made sounds Spock never expected to hear in his life from his Commanding officer. He was taking his Captain, breaking him apart and _penetrating_ him and _melding_ them and putting him back together. They both came almost immediately and made love at least five times that night. And as each time that followed all the way until now, it was never enough.

Then Spock had warned him about the plak tow and Pon Farr and begged his forgiveness. He explained that he would not be himself, that he would be driven by pure animalistic force to claim dominance over his partner and take them, mate with them in a biological need to reproduce an endangered species. It would not matter that he would not be able to breed Jim—the violence and drive would be no less intense. And then Jim, who was siting naked and cross legged in front of him on their bed, had taken Spock’s hands in his lap and stared at them.

“Would you want to?” he asked. “Would you want to make me pregnant? If it were possible?” He pulled Spock’s hand to his flat muscled stomach and held it there while they both breathed heavily in silence and stared into each other’s eyes, searching.

The absolute trust in that question had floored Spock. It took the next hour of mutual assurances and confessions and melding to come to understand the beautiful, soul-baring proposal. There was a way, Spock had eventually admitted, because of the necessity of continuing the species when there were instances of infertility, sterility, or same-sex bonds that would prevent ordinary reproduction. 

And so there on Vulcan, Jim was taken and prepared by healers to receive a womb implantation and birth canal opening that would connect to the entrance he already had. This ceremony was granted only very rarely to those whose bond was beyond exceptional and could handle the enormity of this gift. For Jim and Spock’s t’hy'la bond, an already rare and revered bond that surpassed all others in strength and tenacity, it turned out to be an honor for the Vulcan healers to host them in this ceremony. The entire concept was also kept quite secretive and safe by the Vulcans, as the genetic structure of the organic womb was individualized and was so scientifically advanced that it provided the required hormones and DNA from both parties to complete the process of conception. A miracle, in basic evolutionary terms, but one not ready for popular release. Even more in their unique bond situation, the hormones it produced in Jim responded to Spock’s own balance, and their sexual drives synchronized. As Spock entered the plak tow, Jim would be triggered and enter his own form of heat fever. Since the nature of this procedure was to maximize chances of conception, the receiver would enter additional heats beyond the seven year span of Pon Farr for their mate—though different in that they would not be life-threatening. 

“So basically it’ll just make for awesome sex?” Jim had asked. 

Yes, it would turn out to do just that. Much time was spent exploring and adjusting, and it was a long while until Jim finally conceived. They had been told they could not be given a guarantee, and Jim’s birth control hypo was effective for six months, which required planning. But it was something that essentially, only the fundamental strength of their t’y’la bond made possible. Spock was not in Pon Farr at the time, but Jim’s heat had come and made them both inseparable for days as they removed themselves from duty and sealed away in their quarters. Spock had never been more grateful for the soundproof panels of their rooms, as Jim’s heat made him more vocalized than ever—and Spock in return. And a few weeks later when Doctor McCoy broke down in tears and embraced Jim in his office, they knew it had worked. 

The change was gradual, but steady. Vulcan fetuses were heavier than humans’ and took an additional two months for full gestation. Jim was already slim and toned in figure, so pregnancy looked much larger in how he carried the fetus. His body looked normal everywhere else except for his gigantic stomach pushing out, and he’d been told that he would look and feel like he was carrying the equivalent of human twins for just one Vulcan child. Jim had punched Spock in the shoulder when Doctor McCoy mentioned that, as well as the extra dangers of hypertension and premature labor. But in those early stages, Jim seemed like he’d forgotten what was to come. For the first few months, he could hide the bulge between his slim hips. He and Spock worshipped it in their quarters, with Spock drawing out even their shower times by cornering Jim against the slick wall to feel and rub against his expanding belly that day by day pushed out from between his abs. He loved rutting against the firm mound and watching Jim’s heightened sensitivity play out across his features as he scrambled to wrap his legs around Spock’s waist and be lifted off the ground so he could sink himself onto Spock’s erection with the small swell of his belly pressed between them. 

They did not share the news of Jim’s pregnancy with the crew until it became necessary. When Jim began showing, there was no point in hiding it anyway, as he had the unconscious habit of cradling his belly with his arms or resting his hand over the growing bump. Soon, his uniform was too tight and maternity tunics became necessary. Spock still remembered the first time when Jim, only 10 weeks and 3 days into pregnancy, had dressed for shift and turned to Spock in frustration, displaying his gold command tunic fitting normally everywhere except for his stomach. He sighed and looked down at the material riding up tightly toward his ribs. His swollen belly poked out revealing bare skin already stretching thin. He put his hands in his hips and said, “I think we have a problem, sweetheart.” Spock had smiled and, after placing a kiss on Jim’s mouth and then the top of his bare belly, gone to the quartermaster to discreetly request a new set of maternity size tunics—including the green wrap tunic that Jim (and he) loved.

This was what Jim wore now, and it draped over the front of his body. The roundness of his belly, no longer a bump but a huge balloon of baby growing in his womb, was still only fully evident if he had his hands on top of it and underneath. He enjoyed resting plates of snacks on top of his stomach when they lounged in the privacy of their quarters. Jim would leave the plate balanced there even when it was empty—a tease—until Spock would remove it and replace it with kisses, resting his face with his cheek to Jim’s belly while he caressed both sides. Jim would stroke his hair, his gratitude and satisfaction at Spock’s affection for him and their unborn child seeping through their bond. He breathed slowly and gently, his belly rising under Spock’s ear as Spock listened to the dual heartbeats of his mate and his child.

Spock wanted to do this now with Jim, to pull his mate away from his desk and take him to bed. Remove his golden shirt and cover his heavy belly (for Spock knew how laborious even walking had now become for Jim) with human and Vulcan kisses. Feel Jim moan beneath him, pull at his hair, let his strong thighs fall open, his head tip back, set his heaving chest and belly on full display for Spock’s eyes, hands, and mouth. 

He realized Jim had turned in the chair and was now watching him. Hand on the high swell of his stomach, a gentle smile of those full lips, and eyes that saw into his mind and sent waves of adoration and trust through the bond. 

“Long day at work, sweetheart?”

His voice was low and raspy from fatigue and it sent coils of heat straight to Spock’s groin. He knew he must have blushed or fidgeted because Jim’s soft laugh made him ache even harder.

_“You going to do anything about those fantasies of yours?”_

Then Jim stretched out a hand. “Come help me up. I’m sore.” 

Spock walked slowly across the room, taking Jim apart with his gaze. He could hear Jim’s heart rate speeding as he came closer. He stopped when he was close enough to stare down at his husband, slouched and with his head tipped back in the chair. Expectant and waiting. And content. Teasing and lusting and ready to be taken. Spock leaned down to the flush at Jim’s neck and wrapped arms around his back and under his knees. Jim laughed as he was lifted as easily as a doll, his huge stomach blocking the fold of his body in Spock’s arms. Spock could feel it rubbing against his sternum and he leaned his head down, kissing the uniform over Jim’s protruding belly button. 

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

Spock brought his head back up and nibbled at Jim’s earlobe. “Wasting time is illogical.”

Jim looped his arms around Spock’s neck and licked his ear in return. “I appreciate your efficiency. It’s just part of what makes you my brilliant First Officer.”

Spock stretched Jim out gently on the bed and climbed on top of him. He wrapped his lips around Jim’s throat and murmured into the skin. “What are my other exceptional qualities, Captain? I do hope they’re in the review reports in my file.”

“Remind me later.” Jim shivered and drove his head back harder into the pillow. “Other things, other things...You, you read my mind. And I read yours. Well wait...mmmph...that’s still part of efficiency...oh, _fuck, Spock._ Oh that’s right! Yes! You’re also an _excellent_ fuck. You think ‘Fleet wants to know that?”

Spock stroked one hand hard through Jim’s dark blonde locks, gripping them while Jim whimpered, and he pressed Jim’s shoulder to the bed as he licked a bit of exposed collarbone that he’d freed from the uniform. Then he stuck his hand under Jim’s uniform and splayed his fingers along the stretched curve of his swollen stomach. Jim moaned and arched into the contact.

“Judging by your current condition, I surmise they already know...Only an _excellent_ fuck, James?” Spock dropped his voice further and felt Jim shiver. Jim was trying to reach down around his belly and grab the hem of his tunic to pull it all the way up his body, but his stomach was too big.

Jim gulped air. “I love it when you say fuck.  
Did I only say excellent? I meant extraordinary...exceptional...exquisi—AH!”

He arched into Spock’s hand suddenly on his penis. Spock continued his ministrations. “And tell me. What am I thinking right now, _Captain_?”

Jim groaned and twisted the hair at Spock’s nape. The swell of his heaving belly pushed up into Spock’s ribs. “That calling me Captainin bed is not a good idea.” He gasped and moaned again. “You remember what happened on the bridge last time.”

Spock pulled back and stared into the blue eyes with their pupils blown wide. “James,” he said admonishingly, watching Jim’s eyes roll back in his head as he grinned. “It was you who blushed and made Ensign Chekhov uncomfortable.”

“Well, he’s only—”

“I am thinking,” Spock began again, tired of Jim’s patience, as he placed soft kisses across Jim’s strong shoulder and down the chest he’d exposed by taking over Jim’s difficulty and yanking up his shirt the rest of the way. “That you have worked too long today and are in dire need of attention from your mate. I am thinking about how you will feel around me as I penetrate you. How it will feel when I release into you. I am thinking about your beauty and the wonder at you so heavy carrying my child inside you.”

“Well stop thinking and do something then.” Jim’s voice begged and whined as he pulled at Spock’s shoulders. “You’re very taken with me being pregnant. I got that, and I’m never one to judge a kink. Now show me.”

“Incorrect.” Spock leaned his hips into the firm sphere of Jim's bare, swollen stomach, making Jim moan. “I am so _taken_ with you, as you say, that I can think of nothing else but the effect your current state has on me.”

Spock pulled the shirt over Jim’s head and off his arms. He unfastened the maternity pants and disposed of them as well, taking care with Jim’s boots and staying a little longer to rub his sore feet, to which Jim flapped his hand. _“Later.”_

So Spock climbed back on top of him, kneeling over him while Jim stared up at him and grinned seductively. He tried to sway his hips but laughed at the awkwardness. Spock lit up inside. He swooped down to suckle at Jim’s heaving chest, still so thick with muscle. Pregnancy made his nipples and the surrounding skin incredibly sensitive—more than usual—and Spock never tired of taking advantage of it. Jim let out a high moan and arched his chest up closer as Spock’s teeth took each nub. Spock eventually eased off so Jim could recover. He loved seeing Jim’s pectoral muscles flushed and puckered with teeth marks and suckled bruises, his nipples dark and hard as pebbles. So tight and sensitive if Spock blew his breath across them. But then, halfway down his ribcage, his abdomen ballooned outward, perfectly round and solid from the fetus growing inside.

“I’m fat, Spock. Look at me. How can you have a kink about this?” Jim knew this teasing led to Spock’s possessiveness even more, and Spock found he didn’t mind at all.

“I am looking at you.” He stared at Jim’s beautifully flushed body, his skin slick with sweat and aroused sensitivity. He stared until Jim blushed even darker.

“You are not fat, James. You are _pregnant_. Pregnant with my child. A statistical impossibility. Something I never dreamed. Yet my child _grows_ inside you each day and expands your body so...so beautifully. And if it arouses me to see you this way, I happen to know that you do not mind either.”

Jim moaned in agreement, arching his neck as Spock’s hands traveled everywhere on his hot skin. Spock once again licked and nibbled and sucked his way across golden flesh, only to redouble his paths and bite until Jim cried out. Fingers traced those tender pectoral muscles, each rib, the thick biceps and mound of shoulder muscles. He began rutting his own erection against the heavy curve of Jim’s belly. Jim yelped and tried to maximize the contact, but his bulky size made his efforts uncoordinated. Spock adored him all the more for it.

“Just...” Jim was gasping and responding to Spock’s assault with weak twists and pushes. His broad chest heaved and he whimpered as Spock drew his fingers slowly across his nipples. “Just fuck me already. Please, sweetheart. My chest is always going to be there for you to play with, but I need you inside me _now_.” 

But Spock had taken oil from the nightstand drawer and squeezed it suddenly across Jim’s belly. Jim gasped at the cool ointment, and then moaned low in pleasure and frustration. He tucked his chin and raised his head to follow Spock’s gaze down at his extended stomach, beyond which he could see nothing. Spock slowly but, expertly from practice, rubbed the oil into Jim’s stretched, sore skin. He watched Jim moan and throw his head back, wiggling his torso and rocking into the touch. Spock’s hands pressed into the firm, hot expanse and rounded the sides, up and down. He brought his hands to the bottom curve of Jim’s belly, so low that Jim’s hips bucked and he shivered, and he pressed his hands out along the curves and around to the top of the belly at Jim’s ribs. Jim bit his bottom lip and clenched his eyes shut while Spock massaged repeatedly, this favorite motion that Jim called his “making pottery” massage. Then he rubbed circles with the flat of his palm onto the apex of Jim’s belly, around his distended navel. The fleshy nub caught along his hand, and they both shivered. Jim was already so hard. Spock breathed deeply to control himself. Jim’s belly button had only “popped,” as Jim called it, two weeks and five days ago. To Spock, it only added to the incredibly tight stretch Jim’s stomach had taken on. It poked adorably under his shirts, and seeing it only made Spock want to stretch his hand over it and feel the surrounding tightness.

Jim opened his eyes and looked down again through heavy eyelids. He measured his stomach with his hands, the way it had grown into and out from his body. “I’m so _big_ , Spock. How can I be so huge when there’s still three whole months left? How much bigger can she get in there? You know this is how big a normal human woman is when it’s time to deliver. And you’re telling me I’m going to balloon out even more? That is so not fair.”

Pregnancy had stretched his skin out from up under his ribs all the way down past his hipbones. With every heaving breath, Jim’s belly rose under his hands, its pulse heavy under the taut skin. Spock blushed at the thought of Jim’s belly growing out even larger yet. Stretching out even further from his spine, higher into his ribs. Making Jim heavier and even more uncoordinated. Jim swatted his arm. _“Don’t jinx it. Soon I won’t be able to walk at all anymore.”_

And it was true. Already, Jim waddled and pressed his hand against his lower back for balance. When rising from a seated position, he had to inch his way to the edge of the chair with his legs spread in order to get his giant belly out of the chair first, and then push up on the arms of the chair to straighten his legs. A hand always cradled his belly to lift it while he was standing and then, after sighing and rubbing his swollen stomach, the hand would press against his back as he took a few steps, the other hand out to the side for more balance. Being unable to see his feet or where he was stepping made it doubly difficult. At first, he’d stubbornly declined Spock’s assistance, but now he reached for it nearly always, letting Spock grip his elbow and upper arm to lift him up. Spock smiled at these images and stretched his fingers to examine Jim’s belly. He palpitated and stroked, feeling with his mind and his fingers. He moved his hand underneath Jim’s where it held up the right side of his belly. Their fingers met with slick lotion.

“ _Her_ head, if you still insist on believing it will be a girl, is here.”

“Yeah that makes sense.” Jim tried to lift his back as he shifted, rubbing his left side hard. “She keeps kicking me over here. She’s killing my ribs.” He didn’t say anything about Spock’s pronoun comment. He knew Spock wouldn’t tell him his guess, quoting Spock’s remark that “guesses are illogical.” They’d both decided to wait.

“Soon, in the next coming month or so,” Spock said, “she will begin transitioning vertically. She will drop as she begins the descent to the birth canal. You will feel heavier still as your body positions her, and you will be able to feel the back of her head...here.” He pressed in the middle above Jim’s groin, which left his mate gasping low and hard. “Braxton Hicks contractions will work her lower and lower until the amniotic sac ruptures and your body enters the beginning stages of labor.”

“Yeah.” Jim wiggled again and his belly rose up into Spock’s nose, smudging lotion. “Don’t remind me. You put her in there and now I have to push her out of me. Small hips. Giant baby. Good plan.”

Spock sent a blanket of warmth and reassurance through the bond before continuing his nightly maintenance of Jim’s body. Yes, he was worried about Jim going into labor, suffering hours and hours of uncontrollable contractions and agony he could not bear to imagine. They had already discussed having the birth on Vulcan with Doctor McCoy there to deliver, in order to avoid the publicity of dealing with Starfleet medical. Jim would spend the beginning and active stages of labor with Spock at his home for however long it lasted, until his body had dilated enough between his slender hips, and was ready for him to push. McCoy had already discussed with Spock on multiple occasions the necessity of being at Jim’s constant side to help monitor his pain through the bond. “Jim will likely be in labor for days. It’s not so much the baby that will prolong it, but his body. It has to be prepped slowly to release that giant kid of yours in there, and if he tries to rush it and start pushing, he’ll tear himself up. You’ve gotta keep him calm, cause I’m telling you, Spock—I know Jim’s pain threshold is obscenely high, but he’s going to be a delirious wreck.” Spock had to sit down when he heard this and put his face in his hands. And he was insulted by the Doctor’s implication that he would be anywhere but at Jim’s side while he suffered such trauma. Nothing would keep him from Jim. Not then. Not now. And now...now there was still time for treasuring Jim’s body and showering him with all the extra affection he could want. 

He still couldn’t believe what he held in his hands. His mate’s stretched skin was so firm, so _tight_ and yet malleable as Spock equaled the pressure of its force and range of motion. Pushing at the top side of Jim’s belly tilted the entire side of his body from his chest down to his knee. If Jim shifted sideways even the slightest and wasn’t bracing his stomach, it would throw him off balance and he wouldn’t be able to roll into his back again without aid. Spock would frequently feel Jim reaching for him at night to use for leverage, always grumbling about how “the baby knocked him over.” Spock always marveled at this, how heavy pregnancy made Jim’s swollen abdomen with the amniotic sac full around an entire growing fetus—how immobile and uncoordinated the belly made him, the usually straight and postured Starfleet Captain. Jim’s embarrassment had quickly faded to fond frustration as he accepted it, and Spock adored the extra excuses to be at Jim’s side and physically support him. And if he snuck in a few secret strokes on his mate’s stomach, who could blame him?

The sensation of Jim’s giant pregnant belly against Spock’s hands was orgasmic enough, just to feel with his heightened abilities. The tight skin radiated heat, more than usual since the presence of blood and circulation was so increased. More than once, when his head pained him after a long shift, he would curl on his side beside Jim and bury his face into the scorching mound of Jim’s belly. He’d nestle his head there under Jim’s chest and Jim would laugh and stroke Spock’s hair and ears and lull him to sleep. He’d feel Jim's touches and soak in them as he used Jim's lower chest as a pillow and wrapped his arm around Jim's ever-expanding stomach to pull himself closer and feel more. Jim would smile down at him and just breathe, watching his belly rise and press into Spock’s face. The heat from his soft, firm skin brought pleasure and relief for both of them, as well as the bond’s appeasement at simple skin-to-skin contact.

He continued to rub the soothing lotion onto Jim’s belly and marvel at the distinct feel. The fetus growing inside Jim held such a centered mass. So incredibly heavy. The skin was so taut and warm around it, its hard elasticity with the straining veins and smoothness of new growth as the skin stretched thin. Spock worked to control his aroused breathing as he met Jim’s eyes, which were already drooping again in sweet pleasure. He had lowered his head beneath Jim’s waist so that his eyes and nose were the only parts of himself Jim could see over the top of his belly. Through the bond, he felt the humorous arousal and pure adoration Jim exuded from Spock’s intimate attention. Jim loved that Spock worshipped their child inside him. He loved his growing belly and how heavy it had become because he knew it drove Spock crazy. Spock felt this pleasure and the way Jim’s entire body relaxed and responded under his hands. 

Jim shuddered and fell captive to his entire body jolting in pleasure as Spock pressed his long fingers everywhere on his huge belly. He obediently kept his hands at his sides as Spock’s fingernails traced the firm surface. His thighs shook where Spock moved up and sat on them, trapped. He took heaving breaths, watching Spock stare at his belly rising and falling into his frame. Hear the deep breaths he had to work into his constricted lungs against the weight of his belly. Through their mind space, Spock saw Jim’s fondness for even this. To him right now with Spock's hands holding his rotund belly, Spock looked like he was grasping some mystical orb and staring into its depths for insight, like a wizard from a children’s book he’d once read. Jim laughed and felt his body clench and tighten. Spock’s hands spread wider around his stomach as the muscles shifted it, hardening it. Spock groaned at what his sensitive fingers felt. The rippling tightness reignited his massaging movements with each finger, each joint in his hand devoted to press against his beloved’s stretched flesh.

 _“I’m going to come right now if you don’t distract me,”_ Jim warned.

_“Would that be so terrible?”_

Spock leaned down and licked the spacious expanse of Jim’s belly again. Jim gasped and moaned at the rough tongue scraping across his distended belly button and the firm surface of his stomach. Spock continued lapping the tight skin, feeling it pulse against his mouth, feeling Jim’s moans go right through his lips straight to his groin. Jim’s hands fumbled with Spock’s wrists until they fell obediently back to the bed. Spock curled his body and rested his forehead against Jim’s heaving belly, closing his eyes and soaking in the adoration and arousal, and returning it twofold. Jim was purely writhing, his hands squeezing the sides of his belly while letting his thighs fall open beneath Spock. Then Spock’s hands wandered reluctantly from Jim’s swollen stomach down the front curve and out of Jim’s view. He kneaded the base of Jim’s belly where it met over his hipbones that were hardly tangible anymore. He laid the flat of his palm along Jim’s erection, catching Jim as he bucked into the grasp. Jim’s belly pushed into his face and he nipped at the belly button. Jim’s sobs wracked his entire frame and his hands had ripped the bedsheets clear up the sides of the mattress. Spock hummed into the skin below Jim’s belly button and blew cool air across the top of Jim’s erection just centimeters from his lips. When he kissed the wet tip, Jim began cursing at him, and Spock was surprised he’d lasted that long. He bit into the top of Jim’s strong thigh just beside his erection, carefully avoiding it, and then licked the crease made at the bottom of his stomach where it swelled out over his hips. Jim kicked his knee out, trying to hit Spock in the face.

Spock laughed. _“I will take care of you, ashayam.”_

By the time he made his way to Jim’s entrance, even he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He cautiously rolled Jim onto his side—the only safe and comfortable sex position left for Jim—and discarded himself of his uniform. Jim’s cries of _“finally!”_ had him huffing air like he’d run all the decks of the Enterprise and back. Jim was lifting his belly and trying to reposition himself to make more room for Spock. Then he was moaning and pressing the wide side of his belly, rubbing out and over and back and forth, while behind him, Spock smeared his own pre-ejaculate heavily along his erection and stretched his torso against Jim’s broad back. Jim reached a hand back for him and he grasped it, threading their fingers together. The sensation sent tremors through Spock’s entire body. He growled into Jim’s shoulder blade and tangled his legs around Jim’s. He raised Jim’s thick thigh up beside his belly as far toward his chest as far as he could, and then supported it with his knee tucked under. He took one second more to run his fingers along Jim’s ribs and follow the stretched skin out over his womb.

With easier access now, he tested Jim’s body and, certain he would not cause him pain, angled himself and pushed inside his mate with agonizing slowness. Jim cried out and threw his head back over Spock’s shoulder. Spock bit the nape of his neck and then around it to suck at his collarbone. Jim’s free hand roamed along Spock’s thigh, up his hip and as far along his back as he could reach. Inch by inch, Spock sank into his mate, pulled Jim onto him. He cried out as the glorious muscles _stretched_ and expanded for him, closing tightly around his entire length. Ridge bumped against ridge and Jim heaved air through his open mouth. Jim’s gasps grew louder until he moaned when Spock finally bottomed out, his hips firm against Jim’s buttocks. 

“Fuuuuck yes. Just...just stay there right like that. So big, Spock. So perfect.” 

Jim made this observation nearly every time they coupled, and Spock felt the bond smirk in triumph. Jim rocked his hips back to adjust to the fullness, his huge belly rolling out further. When Spock did the same and readjusted his angle to nail Jim’s prostrate, Jim howled in pleasure from the over-sensitivity. The hot, wet tightness of Jim’s body squeezing around his length made Spock choke out undignified sounds. Things only Jim would ever hear and through whom, he would never be ashamed to vocalize. Spock grasped the bottom of Jim’s thigh under the tight curve of his belly and thrust his hips fully into Jim’s backside. Holding Jim steady, he drew himself out and thrust back in, picking up the rhythm instantly to the beat of Jim’s cries. The air whooshed from Jim’s lungs as Spock rocked into his back. 

Ever aware of mental sensations from Jim and now the muted ones from their child, Spock knew even in Jim’s heavy pregnancy how to ride the line of glorious pleasure that burned and built. He could sense when Jim needed more, when he was close, how Jim treasured the warmed sensations of pain that only Spock could deliver. Jim needed more than what others might normally feel comfortable providing, but Spock needed to give more than what he would feel comfortable delivering to anyone other than Jim. They took and pulled from each other and gave in return. Jim’s mind burned and blinded like gold in his pleasure. Spock sank into its brightness as he simultaneously sank into Jim’s open body, pulling everything closer. Needing Jim. Needing this brilliant, illogical, emotional and insurmountable human who stripped him of ordered clarity and replaced it with pulsing invigoration. And who was now swollen so full and tight with his child. His Jim, his Captain, who always told him everything would be all right, that there were no such things as no-win scenarios, who debated and demanded his way with such force of will that left enemy threats stunned into supplication. 

But not in here. On the bridge perhaps, but not in their bed. Here, Spock was in control and showed him how simply humans loved when compared to the strength and passion of Vulcans. How rudimentary were their joys. Jim was his to dominate and shape with his own ecstasy. Jim offered his body, presented it, and Spock claimed it with all the power of pre-Surak Vulcans who demanded complete and total submission from their mates. He knew Jim had been intimate with women before, been the dominant partner. His eyes burned at the thought of Jim touching another, entering another’s body that was not his. He thought of women’s hands trailing down Jim’s chest, caressing his nipples, his ribs, grabbing hold of his tight hips and touching him in private places that belonged only to Spock. Making him moan in a pleasure that only Spock was permitted to give him. The high keening noise Jim was embarrassed about until he learned how much Spock craved it. He thought of Jim rocking his body, covered in sweat, eyes glazed and burning, thrusting himself into the spread thighs of a woman who squealed as she tore his back open with her nails. Spock growled and gripped until Jim cried out in genuine pain and then sobbed at the pleasure of it that he would have been too ashamed to express in front of anyone other than Spock. Spock growled again and bit into the neck of Jim’s shoulder. 

Jim cried out louder. Blood ran across Spock’s tongue and he lapped it from the wound. He hummed in satisfaction at seeing his teeth marks on Jim’s skin, a visible mark of ownership no woman could leave. Any Vulcan who saw those marks and smelled Spock’s scent on him would know he was already taken. And especially anyone who saw him now so heavy with child would know he was mated and could not be claimed. They would see Spock beside Jim and know that he was the one who had bred this human, who had chosen it, filled it with his seed to carry his heir and give birth to it. That Jim was his alone to protect and cherish and worship.

_“Only you, Spock. Only you, you know that, sweetheart. Forever. Please.”_

Spock suckled at the wound on Jim’s neck, both satisfaction and shame coursing though him. He loosened his bruising grip to caress the bulging mound of Jim’s belly. He pressed it and rubbed large circles around it with his long hand. He placed his forehead on Jim’s shoulder and breathed hot against his back. He thrust hard and fast, rocking his hips up with more and more desperation. His hair stuck against the sweat on Jim’s skin.

_“Never be...sorry for marking me, Spock. You save me the trouble of...a...asking for it.”_

Jim was so close. Spock’s other hand moved under Jim’s side to grip his arm. His fingers splayed around over his quivering pectoral muscle, the rock hard nipple. Jim screamed and drove his head back farther onto Spock’s shoulder. His back arched and his chest heaved as much as it could with his restricted breathing. He let himself be held still in place as Spock thrust into his body. Spock’s other hand continued to rub the swell of Jim’s belly and then pressed under it, taking hold of Jim’s penis trapped against it. 

“Spock! _Fuck!_ Help. Don’t stop. I’m—”

That was all the warning Spock received before Jim screamed harder and quivered in place from head to toe. Spock worked his penis as it pulsed in his hand. Jim moaned in short heaves of breath, whining in a high pitch. Spock kissed his temple and then turned his head down to kiss Jim’s mouth, still open and gasping. He kissed lower along his jaw, down his flushed neck, the tight cords there vibrating and dripping sweat as Jim continued to let out noises. Through half-open eyes, he watched Jim’s gigantic belly glisten with sweat and heave, his navel bobbing up and down.

Spock shushed in his ear, but it sounded more like hissing. _“I’m coming, k'diwa”_ Jim was still constricting around his length and he swelled and burst deep inside his mate. He splayed his hand as wide as it could go around the apex of Jim’s belly for counter pressure, pulling Jim’s body onto him. His hips rammed hard and long against Jim’s backside and he let out a strangled cry that he could barely hear over Jim’s. His body stayed glued to Jim’s backside, his hips quivering in place as the last of his semen pulsed up inside Jim’s body.

After a few moments Jim fell lax in Spock’s arms. Spock’s hand still wet and shaking with Jim’s release, caressed their baby. Jim moaned at the feel and notion of Spock’s wet hand over his stretched stomach, marked though it already was from when he came. Through the bond, he could feel his own length inside Jim and how it felt to Jim to be plugged with beautiful hot semen deep inside him that coated and calmed. To clench his body around Spock’s penis and hold it there as long as he could. Jim moaned through on open mouth. He felt owned and chosen by that sensation. Desired. And Spock marveled again how he could have deserved such a mate like Jim who found ecstasy and adoration from such an intimate and private act.

“You’re going to make me hard again with all your ecstasy and adoration,” Jim mumbled.

“That can be arranged.” Spock kissed him and rubbed the fingers of his other hand in relaxing circles around Jim’s sore and sensitive nipple. Jim moaned and tightened, and Spock gasped at Jim's body clenching around him, still hard and sheathed. He nipped at Jim’s neck. Jim chuckled softly.

“Just stay in there. You know I always want to feel you in me. In my head. In my body. You feel like safety.”

Spock kissed him deeply this time before placing kisses on his cheek, his nose, his closed eyes. His hand splayed and curved around Jim’s swollen and heavy belly. It pushed in and out under his hand as Jim breathed. He let it fill his ears and his mind.

_“I am safety. I always will be, t'hy'la.”_


End file.
